


the words you wanted to say

by evanescent



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, M/M, basically kaneki is a writer hide is his agent and oh god this is so self-indulgent, brief appearances/mentions of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent/pseuds/evanescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Besides, a walk will be good for you, this room is way too suffocating in a long run. No wonder you’re stuck.” Hide looks around, frowning. “Have you though of painting the walls yellow?”</p><p>Kaneki pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “You say that almost every time you come by, Hide. No, I won’t paint them yellow.”</p><p>“Aw, so how about-”</p><p>“Orange is also out of question.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the words you wanted to say

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry, but this fic was a rollercoaster, i admit most of it was written when i was very excited about it and things were going surprisingly smoothly, some parts were more struggled, and while editing today i thought i'm going to die, pfft lmao. oh also not sure if i made it clear, they are twenty-something in this one.
> 
> the title was inspired by a song _rest_ by nevertheless (it doesn't really have much to do with the fic, but it's beautiful, go listen when you have a moment)

Kaneki is in the middle of not writing when his doorbell rings.

He blinks a few times, shakes his head, closes the tabs on his computer and gets up from the desk. At such day and time, there are not many possibilities who could it be coming to visit and as Kaneki glances through the peep-hole, he turns out to be right.

“I asked you to call if you are going to come,” he says first thing after opening the door, doing his best to sound irritated while in reality, he’s not really bothered.

“What a cold welcome so early in the morning.” Hide pouts and he would probably dramatically put a hand over his chest or something like that, if it wasn’t for the fact he’s holding two coffees and a bag of something that smells like hamburgers. Kaneki’s brows furrow a little as Hide enters the apartment. “I would have called, but I actually didn’t plan on coming, I wanted to go to the Big Girl and eat something for breakfast, and then I thought it would be cool to visit my favourite writer and see how he’s doing.”

There are so many things that are wrong with this sentence, Kaneki isn’t sure where to start.

“Do you know what time it is?” he decides to ask as he takes a seat in the armchair across Hide, who is already unwrapping hamburgers and sipping his coffee, without even being told to make himself comfortable. Sometimes Kaneki wonders if Hide is one of these people who think that welcomes never wear out.

“Hm?” Hide pauses mid-movement. “It’s… morning?”

Kaneki sighs. “It’s almost noon and it’s Sunday.”

“Really?” Hide looks honestly surprised and wonders for a moment, then glances at his watch. “Oh. It is.”

“I don’t want to know what you were doing yesterday,” Kaneki mutters, rolling his eyes. Literary world really is full of surprises. He eyes his own table carefully. “Besides, isn’t junk food not really appropriate for breakfast?”

“And don’t you usually enjoy it when I bring you hamburgers from Big Girl?” Hide asks and flashes him a smile. “But if you don’t want to, I can eat it myself, no worries.”

At that, Kaneki chuckles, but reaches for his hamburger and coffee before Hide can indeed take care of them himself. His stomach rumbles at the smell of the food and Kaneki suddenly remembers that the only thing he has eaten today was cold, sweet bean soup from the can. He really has the right to be hungry.

“I wonder what your fans would say if they found out their favourite writer likes hamburgers so much,” Hide says out loud, pondering. “It could make you seem less sophisticated and more human-like, don’t you think? Maybe we should consider putting this in your bio for the cover of the next book.”

Kaneki begs to differ that he can be someone’s favourite author, taking the fact that so far he has published one novel and a bunch of short stories most of people probably never heard of. But he simply answers, “Well, you’re my agent, so I trust you will make the best decision in our common interest.”

Hide only tilts his head and after a moment, he comments, “You seem to be have been up for quite a long time already as for a usual Sunday.”

“I wanted to work in the morning,” Kaneki says at that, since there’s no point in lying; his computer is turned on, anyway, so Hide can probably get the idea.

“Hmm, I see.” Hide nods and a tiny light of hope sparks in Kaneki that he isn’t going to press further. However, setting his cup on the table, he asks out of nowhere, “Which coffee it is for you this morning?”

Kaneki freezes with the plastic cup a few inches from his lips. “Um, second?” he tries, pretending not to remember, and rubs his chin. Hide doesn’t look convinced at all. “Well, third, maybe…”

Before he can make a fool of himself any longer, Hide leans over the table and snatches the coffee out of his hand. “Eh, but you bought it for me!” Kaneki protests weakly as his agent falls back into the seat.

“Yes, but not so you could run on caffeine the whole day,” Hide states, tapping the cup. “Your editor said you’ve been missing deadlines lately and you still haven’t turned in the new part.”

Ah, here it is. Kaneki sinks deeper into the armchair and folds his arms, mumbling, “And here I was thinking you came because you wanted to see me.”

“I always want to see you, Kaneki,” Hide says casually so, looking up at him, and how he manages to do that, while Kaneki feels like his face is turning bright red, _that’s the question_ , “but avoiding the problem won’t make it disappear, you know.”

Hide is right, of course, but that doesn’t really help. Kaneki sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea since coffee is probably out of his reach for now.

“It’s nothing out of ordinary,” Hide continues from the living room, “lack of ideas and motivation, writer’s block and all that. Many out of the most popular one are prone to sulk and give up like ten times a day. We’re just a little worried because you always kept to the schedule and if you had slumps, it rarely showed.”

After a moment, Kaneki comes back to the room with a freshly brewed tea. Hide raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on replacing caffeine with theine, so Kaneki takes it a permission -- what is funny, like he needs a permission to drink a _tea_. But with time, Kaneki began to understand that the job of a literary agent is way more demanding than it sounds and Hide takes his job as seriously as much he seems to enjoy it.

“So,” he starts finally, “I’ve been doing some research online and I somehow stumbled upon a forum for discussing newest japanese literature…”

Hide groans. “And what I told you? No reading opinions on the internet! Don’t you know how celebrities always end up regretting googling themselves?”

“Well, I haven’t found out anything I wouldn’t know, but…” Kaneki scratches his cheek and takes a sip from the cup, his gaze resting on a furiously yellow paper bag from the Big Girl. “There was that one person who said they liked my book and short stories, but what felt off to them was the way I sometimes deal with portraying characters’ feelings and relationships between them.” He pauses then; the tea is even a little too strong as for his tastes. “Like I said, that’s nothing I didn’t know, but once I read it put into words, it became more… apparent.”

“And you let it to drag you into a slump,” Hide finishes for him.

Kaneki winces slightly. “Well, lately the work has been going slowly anyway, so I guess it was a final nail in the coffin.”

Hide is unusually silent and when Kaneki looks up, he finds his friend staring at him and he panics a little. “I mean, that’s nothing big, I’m sure it will pass soon,” he says quickly. He had writer’s blocks many times before, of course, some of them lasting long enough to make him worry -- only him, though, since it was before he had an agent, an editor and commitments to keep.

But Hide only clicks his tongue and states, “Okay, eat your burger and put on a jacket or something, it’s windy outside. We are going people watching. No excuses, Kaneki,” Hide adds as he opens his mouth to protest. “Besides, a walk will be good for you, this room is way too suffocating in a long run. No wonder you’re stuck.” Hide looks around, frowning. “Have you though of painting the walls yellow?”

Kaneki pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “You say that almost every time you come by, Hide. No, I won’t paint them yellow.”

“Aw, so how about--”

“Orange is also out of question.”

…

Kaneki met Nagachika Hideyoshi almost a year ago and to be frank, things have been quite a ride from there on.

Back at that time, he finished a first draft of his book and has been, quite unsuccessfully, looking for a publisher. He knew it’s not going to be easy, but the amount of refusals, ridiculous demands and something what Hide once outright called “preying on the newbies” had him considering publishing it independently or just giving up in general. That’s when his former professor from Kamii University, a respected author Arima Kishou, had recommended him a literary agency called Anteiku led by a man named Yoshimura; having run out of other options, Kaneki followed this advice.

Anteiku was -- and still is -- located on the second floor of outdated skyscraper almost in the centre of Tokyo. When he first went there, Kaneki found himself idly fascinated with this place, its small, kind of cluttered, but nevertheless cozy atmosphere; that is, until somebody suddenly materialized behind him and shouted that he _shouldn’t be standing in the doorway, goddamn, people are working here_. (It was Touka, one of the agents; he later found out she wasn’t as scary as she seemed, though he never felt the courage to tell her that.) After that, he ended up sitting in front of a desk, while the place across him was taken by a casually dressed man around his age with spiky blond hair -- Kaneki assumed he was an assistant or something like that, until the moment he heard, “Kaneki Ken, isn’t it? I have to say, that short story of yours Arima-san sent us, _When The Lions Roar_ , was kind of creepy, but somehow strangely enjoyable.” And, right after that, “Oh, I see you brought your novel! Man, looks heavy, but you actually spared us a lot of trouble and paper -- so, how about entrusting it into my welcoming arms?” He grinned and just then Kaneki noticed a small plate on the desk, _Nagachika Hideyoshi, a literary agent_.

“If you look up at the sky, you can make out a really fat guy out of that cloud out there, you know?”

Kaneki chuckles and glances over at Hide who is leaning his back and arms against the bench, gaze idly lifted up. “I don’t really think this qualifies as people watching.”

They are in a park in Aoyama, the one Kaneki doesn’t stop by often, since it’s quite far from his place and it was Hide who first dragged him here a few months ago, anyway. The weather has got better since they left the apartment; it’s not so windy anymore and even the sun steals a peak or two from behind the clouds. Therefore, a lot of people are in the park now -- families spending time together, couples and friends on casual walks or just loners taking a break. Truly, there’s no better place to watch others on Sunday afternoon.

“Fine, fine,” Hide mumbles under his breath and gestures around. “You can watch people if you want, I personally find the clouds quite interesting as well.”

Hearing that, Kaneki does his best not to point out that it was Hide who came up with the idea and now is more preoccupied with the sky. Well, but he isn’t the one who got stuck with the writing, so there is also that. Kaneki leans a little forward, placing elbows on his knees and lets his gaze slide over the surroundings. The bench they ended up sitting on gives him a good view on a small pond in the park; the water is clear and still, drawing attention and making people pause, even if just for a moment. Kaneki finds himself looking away from the pond in favour of a pair that caught his eye, a mother with a child, probably her son. They are apparently on a walk and the boy is gesturing vividly, excited about something, while the woman is shaking her head and looking like she’s holding back the laughter. The scene is somewhat oddly familiar and makes something in Kaneki’s chest throb. 

“I once told you that my father died when I was little,” he starts, picking a blade of grass and trying to spin it between his fingers.

“I remember,” Hide says at that, sounding like he turned his head from the sky back to the ground.

“My mother was working a lot after that and she eventually died as well,” Kaneki continues, not averting his gaze from what’s ahead of him . “But when she had some free time and wasn’t so tired, we used to walk to a neighbouring park. It wasn’t nearly as big as this one, but a river ran across it and there was a small bridge we could stop by and feed the ducks. I always enjoyed doing that.” He pauses for a moment. “I don’t really have a lot of memories of her, not to mention my father, apart from those simple things. It’s a little… saddening sometimes.”

Kaneki stops there, not really sure how to come from one thing to another. But Hide asks, “Did you try writing about them?” and that leads to a point.

“It’s hard.” He shakes his head. “Right words are slipping out of my hands and if I do catch them, they turn out to be merely words, and I find neither my parents nor even myself reflected in them.” He snorts quietly, not really amused. “This inability to open up one’s heart… Is this what people call coldness?”

“Hm? I don’t think so,” Hide answers and something in the tone of his voice makes Kaneki turn to him. The look in Hide’s eyes is as kind and bright as usually, but also uniquely fond. “I believe it’s more the struggles of being human.”

In the beginning, Kaneki had a lot of doubts Hide. Apart from the fact he didn’t look the tiniest bit like a literary agent, he mostly made an impression of a carefree, easygoing and slightly disorganized person, and while these were cute traits, they weren’t exactly the expected ones. But with a little time and trust, Kaneki understood that there was more to Hide than at first glance; he was pretty observant, finding some mistakes and inaccuracies before the editors, and he had enough of knowledge and good intuition about the current trends, though he claimed he enjoys short mystery novels the most. Hide was that kind of person who, after getting rejected by yet another publisher, would try again, this time through the window, with a somewhat sharp smile gracing his lips as he was putting up demands and accepting no half-hearted solutions. Kaneki couldn’t do such things and so, Hide fit right in; not only as an agent, but also a friend -- and sometimes, just like now, Kaneki would catch himself thinking there was still more to Hide.

...

The next day, they go for dinner to the restaurant a few blocks from Kaneki’s place. It reminds him he finally should go shopping and cook something substantial at home; maybe ramen, Hide said miso one turned out particularly good that time he came over for lunch.

“I know why you like this place so much,” Hide states in between the takes of his curry. “The food actually tastes like food here!”

“And how’s it supposed to taste like?” Kaneki laughs at this remark. “Although I admit, they serve particularly good curry and tofu.” He glances around. “That’s not the only reason, of course.”

“Hm, let me guess. It’s not big, so it doesn’t get crowded here, but also it’s not so small to feel like everybody is looking into each other’s plates.”

“Something like that.” Kaneki nods. “Also, do you see that table in the corner?”

Hide not so secretly turns his head and almost chokes on the water he’s drinking. “Holy shit, is it purple hair that I am seeing?”

“Yes, but you can keep your voice quiet,” Kaneki scolds his friend. “These two often come by, alone or together, always taking the same table. That man…”

“...has a, well, _strange_ fashion sense,” Hide comments and Kaneki rolls his eyes.

“Yes, that too, but I noticed he tends to use foreign words or phrases,” he explains. “Once something was wrong with their wine, I think, he made quite a scene, even the manager came to explain the matter, things were smoothed out and all that, but that guy kept mumbling to himself, uh, what was that? _Calmato_ , I think. Usually it’s French, though.”

“What an overdramatic mannerism,” Hide says, fascinated. Then, he raises his eyebrows. “That’s how you came up with Kuzuki using Latin phrases in your current novel?”

“People watching,” Kaneki answers dutifully.

Hide chuckles and steals one more glance behind himself. “And what about that girl? Noticed any strange habits?”

Kaneki looks over his agent’s shoulder; the purple haired duo is apparently engaged in a conversation, though it seems kind of one-sided, as the man talks and the woman munches the bread, her gaze turned to the window.

“Not really,” he says. “But once I overheard them talking about Takatsuki Sen. I even briefly considered joining their discussion, but…” He wasn’t really the type to strike up a conversation with strangers; that was the first reason.

“Good you didn’t, these two look like they could eat you alive,” Hide shares an observation, coming back to his curry. Well, Kaneki probably wouldn’t put it this way, but that was pretty much the second one. The air around them was somehow a little uneasy, even he could tell so; watching them from the distance occasionally seems like a much better idea.

“But, speaking of Takatsuki,” Hide speaks up after a moment, like he’s been reminded of something, “you remember her new book comes out this Friday?”

“Of course,” Kaneki replies without second thoughts. He’s been looking forward to this date for a while now, like every other of her fans probably.

“So I hope you won’t be disappointed to get this a few days early.”

Hide pulls something from his backpack and slides it across the table. Kaneki blinks in surprise. It’s a copy of _Paper Hourglass_ , looking (and smelling) like it’s quite fresh from the print. He stares at it for a long while before asking, “How did you lay your hands on this, Hide? You would tell me if you were Takatsuki’s agent, right?”

The other laughs at that. “You are my favourite writer, of course I would tell you. And don’t worry, it’s a real, legally obtained copy.”

“And you just carried this soon-to-be bestseller in your backpack like that,” Kaneki states, his voice amusingly close to deadpan, though he feels rather dumbfounded. “For me.”

“Uh, yeah.” Hide scratches his cheek. “You know what they say when you’ve got writer’s block, reading something by your favourite author may inspire you and all that…”

“Hide, I could kiss you right now,” Kaneki blurts out without thinking.

He regrets it approximately three seconds later, except not really. His face feels like it’s on fire and Kaneki wonders, not for the first time in his life, if it’s possible to die from embarrassment. But Hide has turned quite an interesting shade of red as well, so maybe he didn’t make a complete fool of himself. (Or they are both stupid, that’s another possibility.)

“You could have told me earlier, so I wouldn’t have ordered curry,” Hide stutters eventually, clearing his throat. “Anyway, take a look at the first page.”

Kaneki quickly uses the opportunity to busy himself with something and opens up the book. The next surprise awaits him; he finds a dedication.

“I hope you don’t mind it’s for your pen name, but it seems she found your debut interesting.”

The dedication says, _For Sasaki Haise and his promising future; I hope you won’t have to watch out for niblets of sand counting down the time_. Sounds strange, but these surprisingly messy characters came from under Takatsuki Sen’s hand.

“Now that I think about it, you never told me what’s up with this pen name,” Hide wonders out loud.

Kaneki closes the book. “That’s a story for another time,” he says with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

…

When Kaneki gets back home, he doesn’t start reading Takatsuki’s new novel immediately. He sets it on the table by the bed and instead of turning on the computer, he finds a pen and a notebook. His own book has been waiting for quite some time already, so one evening won’t make that much of a difference. He sits comfortably by the desk, letting his thoughts wander as that’s the point of freewriting.

Like he told Hide, writing about his parents doesn’t come easily to him; it requires something Kaneki has yet to posses or find within himself. But he wants to believe this time will come eventually. Instead, now he thinks about a particular sound his doorbell seems to make when a certain somebody rings, windy afternoons spent in smaller and bigger parks, dinners in cosy restaurants or his own kitchen that for once is not empty then. He also thinks about how faint blush remained on Hide’s cheeks for the rest of the evening.

And Kaneki starts writing.

**Author's Note:**

> you know that thing which isn’t really a writer’s block, but more like a heart’s block? yeah, me too
> 
> i left it unclear who kaneki’s editor is because oh, the possibilities. it may be uta tho ( _sasaki-sensei, i send back the correct. also, don’t you think this chapter could use a little more tragedy?_ ), who knows
> 
> how to woo your crush by hideyoshi nagachika: get him a signed pre-release copy of a new novel by his favourite author (who probably happens to be a serial killer in her free time. amazing, where do i find an agent like hide)
> 
> uhm anyway, i think i accidentally got attached to this universe, so i may write another fic in this setting (touriko maybe? i have an idea. sequel to this one is possible as well), if you have any requests/suggestions feel free to ask, though as usual i can’t promise anything. thanks for reading and a happy new year to y'all (may hide finally appear in :re /side-eyes ishida sui/ alive and well)


End file.
